Petunia
by NerdyPotatoFacedLoser97
Summary: When one of Dudley's daughters turns out to be a witch, how do her grandparents react?


There was a great many things that Petunia Dursley was proud of. Namely her son, Dudley, who was now all grown up and raising two beautiful daughters. She was also proud of her ability to knit pretty blankets, her cake decorating, and her spotless white tile kitchen. And one evening, spent at her son's for dinner, she was forced to face the one thing she was not proud of.

"Nana! Nana!" yelled little 8 year old Elisabeth Dursley, Petunia's eldest granddaughter, as she bounded up to the thin woman.

"Hello, Lizzie, how is my wonderful little girl?"

"I'm fine thank you, Nana," she replied politely, "how are you Grandpa?" she enquired to Petunia's rather walrus-like husband – Vernon.

"Very well, Lizzie."

The all shuffled into the living room where 6 year old Vanessa was playing with her dolls. Dudley and his wife, Melissa, where sat comfortably on the sofa. Greetings where exchanged and idle chitchat was made before they all adjourned to the dining room to eat a rather spectacular roast.

"So, how's they job, Dudley?" Vernon asked.

"I actually really enjoy it. Its hard work, but I love it."

Dudley was a high flying architect. Although his father was still a little bitter from Dudley's decision to leave his drill selling firm.

"I still think you'd be better off in the drill selling industry, but it's your decision, I suppose."

"Father, we've had this conversation a hundred times before. I don't want to."

Vernon made an undignified snort, and Petunia shushed him. She supported her son, even if her husband did not.

After dinner, the all relaxed in the living room again. Vanessa shot upstairs to get another dress to put on her favourite doll, when Vernon noticed it moving.

"Say, Dudley, is that one of the new-fangled mechanic dolls? Downright wrong if you ask me. Inanimate objects should not be moving around like humans!" he stated indignantly.

Melissa gasped. "N-no. That's just one of my old ones!"

"What?" Petunia whispered.

The dolls where moving around by themselves. Acting as if they were actually alive.

"Magic?" Dudley gasped as his youngest daughter bounded back in and the dolls collapsed, "Can you do that again Sweetie?"

"Of course, Daddy, I've been practicing."

Petunia was still in shock, but unfortunately Vernon was not. His large, round, moustached face went pink, then red, then a terrifying purpleish colour before he glared at his granddaughter.

"A freak?!" he roared, "We'll have no more of this in my family!"

And before anyone else could react – and Dudley was about to say some very choice words to his father – the magical girl's older sister marched right up to her grandfather.

"Nessa is not freak! She's my sister. And I don't care if you're my grandpa, you are not allowed to call her that ever again!" she yelled at him.

Vernon was livid. Luckily Petunia had the sense to pull him out of the door before anything else could go wrong. Her husband ranted all the way home, but the thin woman did not hear a word of it. Her mind was in overdrive as she replayed the look on Elizabeth's face as she stood up for her sister. She had had a little sister once. A long time ago now. A sister with magical abilities, just like Vanessa. But she had not stood up for Lily. She had called her a freak, refused to talk to her, and eventually disowned her. When Lily had died, she was forced to take care of her young nephew – Harry Potter, saviour of the wizarding world – but she had done a rather poor job of it.

The next day, while Vernon was at work, she went back to her son's house. She apologised for the behaviour shown last night, and watched as the two girls played happily together. It reduced her to tears and she had to excuse herself.

Then she drove. And she drove until she reached a small village by the name of Godric's Hollow. She had never been here before, but the visit was long overdue. Petunia wandered the graveyard and spotted two identical white tombstones.

One read: Here lies James Potter, Marauder to the end.

And the other read: Lily Potter, our beloved flower.

She knelt before the latter and after a few seconds of blankness, she cried. For the first time in many years, she cried for her sister. The broken woman thought of her cruelty towards her deceased sibling, and her nephew. She thought of the many times she'd called her any of the horrid names she could think of. She thought of a thousand apologies she should have made. She thought of the invitation to her wedding that still sat in a box under her bed, that she wrote but never had the courage to send. She thought of the unanswered letters that Lily had sent her. She thought of the witch costume she had, ironically, been wearing the Halloween that Lily had died.

After what could have been an hour, or only ten minutes, and unaware of anything other than the headstone in front of her and all the pent up guilt she had inside her, she rose to her feet and walked away.

The last thing she did was glance back at the white marble and whisper "I'm sorry."

She never visited that grave again, but Petunia knew that she had finally been forgiven.


End file.
